Negan's Cost
by alltothepen
Summary: When Michonne gets taken by Negan, she tries to find her way out of her precarious predicament. Her family does everything they can to rescue her. Can she survive Negan's twisted game? TW: for implied rape and enslavement.
1. Chapter 1

Michonne stood silently among the variety of curious women, some painted, all dressed like their bodies were wares. Some glared at her.

One stepped forward, a leggy, tanned muscular blonde who held out a simple strapless red mini-dress.

"I'm Helen. You wanna put this on?" she said, her cold hazel eyes assessing Michonne's large dark brown ones.

"No." Michonne said simply.

By then she had figured out for herself why she was here and not dead. Why Negan's men tazed her instead of killing her. Why they brought her to Negan unmolested and alive, despite the many men she had killed.

"If you want to survive I'd suggest that you do."

Michonne pursed her lips and allowed her head to drop to the side, and reiterated slower and softer, "I'm not gonna put that on."

Michonne stepped away from the woman and receded a bit from the crowd, sitting in a far corner to think and assess her predicament.

Both Carl and Rick would be out of their minds doing what they could to get her back. Rick, she knew didn't think well when his mind was clouded by fear for his loved ones. He grew paranoid and violent. He or Carl might do something stupid.

She had to figure her own way out of this before it was too late.

In a way, it might be good that they'd snatched her.

She'd be the first to see Negan, to measure the man and seek out any weaknesses. She'd be clearheaded enough to take in what her family needed to know.

And though she experienced fear and pain just like the rest, she was one of the few who could think past it.

The fact that she could tell that these women were not shrinking violets nagged at her. They seemed strong and not so easily assailable. So what kept them here under Negan's whims? What kept them from killing him while he was distracted? ...or from working together to overthrow the place?

She had a feeling that there was more to this Negan than what they had encountered before.

* * *

Ten men entered the room, all with heavy automatic weapons leveled at the women.

They parted like the red sea and a solitary man stepped forward, a salesman's grin plastered on his face. He was tall, muscular, and dark. Similar to the governor, he oozed the kind of charisma that made people look to him. Another pretty boy.

...but there was definitely something dangerously different about this man.

He scanned the room looking over the women, before his eyes fell on Michonne, who sat on a bench in the back.

"Well, fuck me sideways, this bitch looks straight out of a blaxploitation revenge flick! That shit is sexier than hell."

He slowly walked over and Michonne noted that the other women all got out of his way.

He stopped just out of the range where it might be possible to ambush him.

"Do you know how much I flogged the bishop to that hot black chick from _Live and Let Die_? ...Fuck!"

Michonne remained quiet but kept her eyes levelled at him.

"Shiiiit. I almost wish I could have seen you use that sword on my men. I probably would've whipped my dick out and jerked it right then!"

His men predictably smirked at this.

He licked his lips and leaned forward.

"So, you are Ricky's lady, huh?"

He allowed his eyes to slowly track her figure, to take in everything that was observable. Her large unblinking eyes, her lush mouth, her athletic model curves. His eyes followed a bead of sweat on her skin as it rolled into her cleavage.

" _Christ_ , you are delectable. Just looking at you makes me harder than Lucille, but you don't have nothing to worry about. I don't approve of rape."

Michonne saw the women in the room from the corner of her eye shift slightly at that.

 _Okay, so he's another sociopath who has created his own reality...a more dangerous one because it seems that he's not afraid to be transparent and everyone following him is onboard with it. Fuck. He thinks to wear me down into taking him voluntarily so he can defeat Rick psychologically._

 _Fetishizing me as a new 'flavor' for his pokemon collection wouldn't do that, even if I were given an actual choice._

And now she knew why these women remained. To ensure the safety of their loved ones.

"I tell ya what. If you stay, become one of my wives, I'll leave your family alone. I'll take damn good care of that body of yours. ...I'll still have to get my payment of course, to feed my people, but you have my word that Rick, Carl, Judith... they'd all be safe. I just love a good strong beautiful woman. Weak-ass bitches do nothing for me in this crazy-ass world. ...You think on that, while I keep your sword mounted on my wall tonight to fuck to, imagining _it's you_."

He turned his back to her, clearly expecting and hoping Michonne would try him so he could have an excuse to put his hands on her, and walked slowly out of the room. As he got to the door, he called a woman's name.

"Joy."

Joy quickly stepped up behind him, a shapely terra cotta-skinned black woman in a sleeveless t-shirt and boy shorts with a halo of tight ringleted hair. She clenched her jaw as she got close and balled up her fists.

He regarded her some, seemingly pleased at her defiant persona.

"Not even close to the cigar I _wanna_ smoke." he said absently and left, his men following out after them.

* * *

That evening, Spencer walked up to Rick's house on shaky legs and knocked.

Rick, got a look at the man's shaken appearance and bloodied face, the lack of Michonne at his side and immediately staggered back from him, the air snatched from his chest.

"Where is she?"

Spencer opened and closed his mouth.

"I'm sorry...I couldn't-"

Rick surged forward and pinned Spencer against the wall.

"Where. _Is._ She."

"We were ambushed by Negan's men...Michonne killed a lot of them, but they still managed to take her. There were too many of them."

"How are you still alive?" Rick asked, pinning him to the wall even harder.

"He wanted... They told me to tell you."

"Was she...hurt?"

Rick couldn't bring himself to ask that any more clearly, but Spencer got his meaning.

"No, they were all business. They didn't seem to have done her any _damage_ or had any intent to."

Rick released Spencer and paced before letting his fists slam down hard on a counter in fear and frustration. He had stupidly thought she would be safe. That they didn't know, so they couldn't use her against him. He didn't even think about the possibility of spies.

He thought of everything Negan might do to her to hurt him and he fell into his chair.

Carl chose that moment to enter the room. "...Dad?"

The teen looked from Spencer to Rick's face and knew.

"Is she dead?"

"No. Just taken." Rick said as he looked up into the frighteningly calm gaze of his son.

"Then we should go get her back."


	2. Chapter 2

**_Three Days Before..._**

Carol and Maggie had managed to slip their captors, killing them all in the process, but they had discovered something worrying. Maps of the many different compound locations of Negan's men.

They had only sacked the one.

None of the men they had killed were Negan.

That night, Rick sought Michonne's counsel. She told him candidly that it wasn't over yet and wouldn't be until they'd neutralized them all. He was anxious and deeply stressed about what they would have to do so he sought comfort in her arms.

They made love to reaffirm their connection, this hopeful life they had somehow managed to carve out together.

Always synchronized and connected even in wordless ways, they virtually read one another's minds as well in the throes of passion as when they faced the same foes in battle.

That night, their sex was a fierce battle of wills, claimants reaffirming sole possession of the other.

It was lazy and blissful in the morning. They took their time in ways Jesus' interruption hadn't allowed before.

In the haze of afterglow, Rick turned to his side and took her hand...somehow still well-tended despite her dedicated swordplay. He fiddled with it, kissed it and nuzzled a few locs away from her ear to whisper endearments.

"Michonne. I love you so much. _I can't..._ ever lose you. I can't lose anyone else."

She turned to him, eyes wide and wet.

"I know. You _won't_."

She kissed him then and they settled into an easy doze, wrapped securely around one another.

* * *

 ** _Now..._**

Michonne pretended to sleep. Her eyes, just opened slightly as she watched and listened to some of the women whisper while the rest dozed.

Helen was definitely a leader among them.

 _Her man's people killed over fifty of them without even getting scratched!_

 _-So. She's here now. This is where it turns for them, no matter what._

 _If she agrees to his terms she's fucked, her man will get reckless, and it will be over._

 _-If she doesn't he'll use her to get to them anyway._

 _They're toast._

 _Isn't that right, Michonne?_

Michonne opened her eyes and approached the group quietly.

"There are other options." she said.

"Kill yourself? Linda did that and her man did the same. Escape? Gail nearly did that and maimed herself in the trap waiting for her. Kill Negan?"

Helen laughed then.

"I was a dedicated mixed martial artist before the brain disease brought all the dead back. I tried it. He had contingencies in place, and he killed one of my boys with Lucille."

Michonne narrowed her eyes at the woman. "What is Lucille?"

"-His bat." said a small thin East-Asian woman with a ballet dancer's carriage and a terrible burn scar on the back of her hand.

"You try anything, he'll use it on those closest to you, right in front of your eyes. One of your kids, most likely. He needs your man alive to continue to lead the rest in doing his bidding. He wouldn't ever kill him, because he doesn't to create a martyr. That would be ripe for rebellion."

"I'm Aiko. We watch after each other here, keep each other sane and... do what we have to do."

Helen spoke up. "Aiko, has been here the longest, while still surviving him. You should listen to her."

Michonne merely nodded.

* * *

Rick's inner circle gathered in his kitchen. Daryl bit his nails anxiously. Glenn and Maggie sat embracing one another protectively. Morgan stood in a corner, his chin leaning on his staff contemplatively. Carol stood with her arms folded across her chest.

Every sat at attention and listened with extra intensity. All loved Michonne dearly.

Even Spencer was there, ready to do what he could to save her. He felt extremely guilty that he'd allowed it to happen, despite knowing there was nothing he could have done. She'd done him kindness, helping him to lay his mother to rest. If she hadn't been with Rick, he might have even made a play for her.

Rick stood in front of them.

"We have to hit them hard. The only possible advantages that we have are that that's _Michonne_ in there and we know the location of their main base. ...If those maps aren't decoys.

We have to scout the location with the assumption that it's not. -That it's a trap, before we come up with a real plan."

"Let me scout ahead alone first." Jesus said.

"I can slip around undetected, escape, and protect myself, even without weapons. You've seen this, Rick. Plus, I don't have family they can use against me. I'll go tonight and report back in the morning.

If I'm not back by noon. You'll know that it's not safe."

Rick eyed him anxiously and then nodded.

"Fine. You do that."

Carl spoke up. "Is there any way that we can do something sooner? I mean the longer that she's there the more they could be hurting her!"

 _"Carl!"_

"We should go _now._ They wouldn't be expecting it. They know we've killed their men in their sleep, so they'll expect us to come after we've prepared."

"Carl, I know that you're worried, but you have to have faith that Michonne will do everything that she can to take care of herself. You know how tough she is."

"Yeah, sure. But she's not invincible. And _you know_ what they could do to her, while we waste time here."

Rick flinched at this. He'd had to push that aside so he could think clearly. So, he could focus on getting her back.

"Yes, Carl I _do_ know but we have to focus on what we can do to get her back safely.

We got Carol and Maggie back without losing anyone. We'll get Michonne back too."

Carol stepped forward.

"I'll come over and help with Judith, until Michonne gets back."

Rick understood what she wasn't saying. Carol would be the one most likely to be able to defend his children, should it come to that. Playing meek and unthreatening until her true nature was needed.

Daryl got up suddenly and slapped a wall.

"I don't know if I can just wait around, man. I mean, this is _Michonne_."

"You have to, so you will. You'll get your chance to act. We all will. And when we do, we'll kill them all."


	3. Chapter 3

_Okay, so I'm not one to go into too much detail, because I think readers' imaginations are better at that. Still there is some implied and I'm sure triggery grossness in this chapter, including unwanted hair-petting on a black woman and the threat of forced assault by an animal. If you don't know Negan, now you know._

 _I truly hope his episodes also come with trigger-warnings if they go anywhere near his comic incarnation._

* * *

His men came into the women's quarters early that morning and nudged Michonne 'awake'. They directed her through the compound, clearly unafraid of what she would learn of it's layout.

She memorized everything, every detail that she could see, from the number and demeanor of the men and women on duty to basic directions. The layout would be a definite problem. The corners were blind and she had no idea how deeply into the compound she actually was, since she had yet to see a window.

She could find no hint of an entry or exit point.

She came to what appeared to be a large presidential suite. One of the men opened the door and Negan sat in the middle of the room on a plush couch. He wore a short silk robe which gaped in the front, showing-off an heavy dusting of grey and black chest hair.

Tied with jute and kneeling before him was Joy. She looked resigned to whatever fate awaited her.

Three of Negan's men retreated back into the hallway to the shut and guard the door.

The other four took different positions at corners of the room, their weapons unlocked and casually levelled at Michonne.

"GOOD MORNING BABE!" Negan announced, as he got up grinning, with his arms wide and welcoming. It made Michonne want to dry-heave.

"I can't tell you how glad I am to have you here, with my Joy! _Joy-Joy my fuck-toy!_ " he sing-songed as he petted the restrained woman's hair.

The poor woman very clearly wanted to recoil.

"-Big Joe?"

Big Joe was a large handle-bar mustached sunburnt white guy, with straw-blond hair. He lowered his weapon and stepped away from his position at the far corner and left the room. He returned seconds later with Michonne's katana in his hands.

He presented it to Negan first, who waved it away.

"Oh, no, no, no. I'm a big hairy-ass white guy. That shit doesn't look right in my hands."

Negan licked his lips.

"Give it to it's rightful owner."

Negan watched closely as the man held the weapon in front of Michonne. Michonne remained relaxed and did not reach for it.

"I'm not doing anything to this woman." Michonne whispered her head inclining to indicate Joy.

Negan grinned again.

"I didn't expect that you would, but I had hoped."

He nodded at Big Joe who retreated once more with the sword in hand. This was a problem. She had no idea where this man was taking her katana. If she took Negan at his word, and she didn't, she would think that it was mounted openly in his room. There for the taking.

...But she remembered what the women had told her about traps, all of their attempts to ambush and escape. She knew that this man would not have been able to keep a hold on such a large amount of organized armed men and women, unless he was able to avoid stupid mistakes like the Governor had made.

Michonne could see that this man's cockiness was an act. He was very careful about who and what he trusted.

"It's fine. You don't have to do shit. I just wanted to see you again." Negan said.

He snapped his fingers and the men all raised their weapons to eye-level, in firing position. He crossed his arms behind his back, allowing his robe to gape even further, much to her disgust and he slowly took a walk around her, in a wide circle.

"Fucking-fuck, the Creator broke the mold when he created that ass of yours. ...Like you're fucking smuggling two honeydews back there!"

Michonne could see that he was trying to goad her into violence, to see just what she could do and get a better idea of what kind of threat she is. She wouldn't give him that pleasure. Unfortunately, even doing nothing told him quite a bit.

He came back around to face her and his smile dropped.

"You know, you can tell a lot about a man by the kind of people he loves...the quality of people who love him."

"All of my ladies would have tried to placate me or kill me at least once by now, but _not you_ , huh. -Just biding your time. You won't give anything away, even if I have you ass up with a pitbull ready to take you."

Michonne continued to refuse to recoil in any way. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"I thought you didn't approve of rape."

He smiled his sick twisted smile again.

"I DON'T. I'm just saying that you wouldn't, even if I _were_ that kinda' scumbag."

"Fuck me, but I really, _really_ fucking like you a lot Michonne and I have a feeling that I'll like Rick just as much. Shame you won't even consider becoming one of my wives. But ain't that a some kinda' bitch of a conundrum!? If you did, I probably wouldn't want you as much... Ahh, who the fuck am I kidding! Fuck yeah, I'd have you and that superior posterior of yours, in _every_ fucking way."

He cast his sleazy eyes along her form again in a way that made her skin crawl, but she merely sighed as if bored and unimpressed, which she was.

"I can see just from that fact that a woman like you is his, that Rick is a man I can't beat around the fucking bush with. Nope, I'm gonna have to pull that shit up by the roots and fucking incinerate it in front of him, -maybe a few times before he's brought to heel. You might want to give that some thought, while I'm taking my time figuring out just when and who I'll be picking for that honor."

"Take her back to my girls."

As his men converged on her, she noticed one thing that she just might be able to work with.

Joy had something in her mouth, something which jutted out at an odd angle, distorting her cheek.

Something that suspiciously looked like it could be a small key.

Michonne saw that as Negan and his men were distracted, she swallowed it.


	4. Chapter 4

As the gate slid shut, Carl watched from the kitchen picture window as Jesus took off running. He watched his father shift from side to side helplessly, watched him run his hands through his hair and drop his head for a moment, before taking a deep breath to center himself. Watched him tap the handle of his Colt Python rhythmically before walking away.

At that point, he hated him with all of the adolescent fury he could muster.

His father couldn't protect his mother and couldn't protect Michonne. Carl was the one who had to do what needed to be done for his mother. Even Lori had said that "It can't be him!" referring to her husband's inability to remain sane in the wake of having to kill his own wife.

And even after Carl had been the one to do it, Rick was still gone for a time. Lost to the fact of his wife's death and the manner that it had occurred.

Meanwhile, Carl had simply done what had to be done and dealt with it.

Carl _adored_ Michonne. She had been patient and understanding. She never talked down to him. She made corny jokes to cheer him up and she helped keep his gross facial wound clean without so much as a flinch.

He thought about his father's wavering sanity and questionable actions in the past. He thought about his recent fascination with Jessie and how that woman and her terrible kids were interlopers in what he had with his dad and Michonne... How protecting them had lost him his eye and had nearly had gotten them killed. He had done what he could despite his personal feelings on the matter, doing his best to take up for her troublemaker of a son. He remembered his innocence before the walkers. Of playing video games and eating his mother's pancakes. -Of worrying about nothing more then, than his grades or the school bully.

He adjusted to the walkers and the dangerous people out there because he had to. He had hoped that Ron and Sam would adjust, though truthfully he knew they were too weak and too resentful. Thanks to his dad and whatever Ron thought was going on between Enid and himself.

He remembered his discovery of the change in Michonne and his dad's relationship dynamic, how it initially had felt like a punch in the gut. He thought his father might have used Michonne so soon after his questionable lapse with Jessie. When he had thought that, he had been so disappointed in him and Michonne. He had thought that Michonne of all people would be less susceptible to that kind of thing and he hoped he father would never do that her, but then he remember Jessie.

He remembered his father knocking him down when he went crazy on Pete in the streets.

Thankfully, later his dad had talked to him and he saw the way he looked at her, the way he was acting about it and he could see that he was in it for the long-haul. That he was as taken with Michonne as he had been for his mother.

He just knew that he had to do his part now, just as he had to with his mother.

His dad wouldn't be strong enough.

Carl hastily packed some guns, opened a window and left the house.

* * *

Rick entered the nursery to find Carol sitting in a rocker, tapping Judith's back gently as she slept. She kissed the child's hair and patted the chair next to her.

He sat down heavily.

"You know these people better than anyone, Carol. Who do think is most likely to be feeding Negan intel about us?"

"I wish I could tell you, but I don't know. You were a cop, haven't you ever interrogated people? Maybe, Deanna's interview tapes could shed some light."

Rick nodded.

"I'll go speak to Maggie about it. Thanks Carol."

"No problem. -Listen, Rick. You have to know that we're here for you. We're strong now, because you helped make it so. You don't have to be the Rock of Gibraltar. You can depend on us take up the slack when you're compromised. And, Sunshine? You _are_ compromised now. Any one of us would be, in your place. I'm sure Glenn was thinking super-clearly when Maggie and I were taken. So, give us the chance to take up the slack. Do what you can to keep yourself thinking clearly enough to do what you have to do. You have _got_ to take care of yourself, even if you don't want to. It's like what they say when a plane is crashing. Put the oxygen mask on first so you can be conscious enough to do the same for your loved ones."

Carol got up and placed Judith in the crib.

"I'm gonna see what I can whip up in the kitchen before everyone gets here."

* * *

 _ **Quick endnote on my version of Negan** (comic-spoilers ahoy!): I got a review and a pm saying that he's OOC because I imply that Negan rapes, when in canon he does not. No, Negan hasn't "raped" anyone in the comic, in his way of thinking of it. He hasn't held a woman down or forced himself on her sexually if she didn't consent. The women choose go to him in the comic. None of the women who "choose" to be among his wives in the interpretation that I have chosen to write, strictly has to be one of his wives. They can go to their former husbands and await whatever fate he chooses for them if they get out of line, in his view. But Michonne is leverage in this story, just as Carl was in the comics. If you're reading my story, hoping for me to reinforce your sympathetic romanticized ideal of Negan, let me disabuse you of that notion, right now. I am not one to soften violent villains. This goes especially for the disturbing fandom trend of doing this for violent red-flaggy white dudes *cough*kyloren. I enjoy actors and their performances but if you are an actual fan who makes excuses for Negan's morality; the terrible things that he says and does, especially near the show's point in comic canon, I side-eye the fuck out of you. I'm not the one to go "giving him credit" because at least the guy doesn't "rape women" and has "a moral code". Negan is a sociopathic red-flaggy fuck-head and a half, who disarms people by using brash disgusting language to control those who would be shocked, amused, swayed, and/or impressed by that. He jokes about his twisted enjoyment of murdering and maiming people... Sure, he eventually goes to more gray moral places later in the comic, but this fiction is not about that. It's not about reinforcing your romanticized view of Negan who already gets so much unnecessary credit among fans, because his cussing is hilarious and "at least he doesn't rape". Despite some horrific content, this fic is really about stanning for the characters who try to be good people, who are desperately trying to retain their humanity in this awful world. This fic is about team family's love for Michonne and Michonne's bravery, right along with the amazing women who deal with and survive him in this fic. It's not here to reinforce the mentality of celebrating the loudest angriest toxic white guy in the room. That happens enough in real life. I'll likely stan for what will surely be Jeffrey-Dean Morgan's firm grasp of and interpretation of this twisted character, but not for the character himself in any unironic way. If that isn't your cuppa, please avoid my fic and read what I'm sure will be  plenty of fic to come that grossly pedestals and romanticizes this disgusting, toxic, asshole, when he finally shows up on TWD._


	5. Chapter 5

Carl's eye socket itched like nobody's business, but there was little that could be done about it out here. Michonne would have helped him clean it and apply some of that precious numbing antibiotic ointment, had she been home. But she was not. And he was distracted enough by that fact that he had neglected to do it himself.

He tugged a bit on his bandage, allowing the drag of it to scratch the itch a little. Unfortunately, as he knew would be the case, scratching only flared the itchiness even further. On top of that, his other eye was strained.

He stopped by a large tree threaded with heavy kudzu, looked all around himself with his weapon pointed, making certain that the area was clear of walkers, and then he fell to the forest floor, propping his back up against the tree.

He began to weep.

He cried not just for Michonne, but for everything that had happened to him, all that he had lost since the walkers. His mother, what his father had to do, what he had to to, his distance from every other person he'd met that was his age. His mistake costing Dale's life. His assault at the hands of that Claimer...

He felt so old and soiled.

He felt tainted by this world and he knew that it would never wash off. He'd never get to be that kid ever again, though he understood that it was necessary for his survival.

As Hershel and his family had repeated often, "We all got jobs to do."

But it did not stop him from lamenting the loss of a certain kind of happiness, one that he thought he'd never have again, one untempered by a near surety of its loss.

He was deep in his thoughts, tears drying on his cheek, when he heard the growl from his blind-side. He turned but it was too late. He felt the full-body-weight of a large walker topple him to the ground.

Carl managed to get some leverage beneath what was left of the walker's chin, but still, it eagerly snapped it's deadly teeth inches from his face and throat.

Carl struggled mightily to wedge his Berretta into the proper position for a headshot, but the walker was heavy, it's decomposing guts snagging the angular weapon.

That was when he felt the reverb of the impact. And the walker was stopped.

Enid stood over him with a large rock in her hand, now covered in walker brain sludge.

"You shouldn't be out here." she said.

"That's not your business." Carl said and he quickly got to his feet and started walking.

"It's my business if I see you doing something stupid that could get you and Michonne in much deeper trouble."

Carl walked faster.

 _"Carl."_ she husked. "Stop."

Carl stopped and turned to look at her.

"I'm wasting time."

"How do you think your dad is gonna feel knowing that both you and Michonne are in harm's way?"

"I don't care."

" _-Bullshit._ Also _fuck you_. I wish my parents still _could_ worry about me. However prepared you think that you are, you're still smaller and weaker than Negan's people because you're just one kid. You know this."

Carl began to walk again.

"-A recently injured, depth-perceptive-hindered kid at that."

Carl stopped and dropped his head.

" _I can't just sit around doing nothing!_ I never, -I never got to tell Michonne how much she means to me, -that even though I'll always love my mom, she's my mom too...and now, I may never get to."

Enid closed the space between them and reached out to embrace Carl.

He flinched a bit, turning the side with his missing eye away from her.

Enid grabbed his face and turned it to face her. Looking him full-on without any change in how she regarded what he now thought of as his ruined face.

" _You will._..but not like this. Let Jesus do his thing."

She leaned in to give him a comforting peck on the injured side of his face, before fully hugging him.

* * *

Jesus ran with the grace of a gazelle, using his parkour skills to his advantage, every seeming obstacle he used as a connecting boost to get to another point that much faster. He was ghostly silent as he went.

He was less than a mile away from where the map indicated Negan's homebase was located.

He heard voices and monkey-like, quickly scaled a nearby tree.

Several armed men passed below him, smoking, chattering, bullshitting about the goings on inside Negan's base.

"Dwight and Jay found Spam, man. It's a fucking treasure. A magical meat."

"This is nothing magic about the garbage parts of the pig processed into a canned loaf."

"You seriously talking shit about garbage parts in all this?"

"Yes! Those plantation fucks on a hill have real meat. Maybe we should be raising our own like them."

"Man, you know we got a system. And it works! Look how well we're doing. We don't need to farm or do shit except let others pay for our thinning out the walkers."

"Whatever man, you know he's psychotic. This shit ain't gonna work forever. Somebody is eventually gonna get pissed enough to come at us and do real damage. You seen what that black chick's group did. Wayne and his men were pieces of barbeque all over the damn road and they wiped out Sector 3. and the stopover."

"Yeah, and Negan knows that and he ain't worried about shit. He's got it under control, man."

"Remember what happened when them Treehouse fucks tried us?"

"-They came at us with a shitload of grenades and Molotov cocktails. Sacked three of our bases. But that shit was over once we got the leader's sister."

"He wore that wore smug fuck down and made him his bitch."

"That's what'll happen to these assholes. Like Negan says, we survive because we're the biggest swinging dicks. Ain't nobody got shit on us. Now, let's finish up so we can get back and eat some of that spam this fuckhead loves so much."

They divided up and began a more thorough sweep of the area. Jesus watched as they killed some walkers and tied up others for some purpose. He guessed they planned to use them as a living barrier, just like those women who took Maggie and Carol. They also gathered some fallen wood and set nasty traps.

Once they were done, Jesus took out the binoculars his group had salvaged from Maggie and Carol's captors and pointed them far ahead of where the men were headed.

His stomach dropped.

Negan's homebase was a damn fortress surrounded by walkers.

* * *

Michonne was escorted back to the women's quarters with some semblance of a plan beginning to form in her mind.

She didn't bother to share it with any of the other women, because she realized that any one of them could be a spy or actually in love with that egotistical louse. Even Joy could be baiting her. So, she decided to only file away what she saw the woman do.

There were a total of six women in the room, including herself. There was Helen who was the clear leader who stuck close to Aiko. Michonne got the impression that there was more than friendship going on there. They had a similar rapport to herself and Rick.

There was the brown woman, whom she guessed could possibly be Desi, with close-cropped pixie hair similar to Carol's, a long-haired brunette with a smattering of freckles on her face and one other blonde, this one of the dirty variety and when Joy got back, that would make seven of them.

There was no safe way to escape at this time, not without the possibility of falling into some kind of unknown trap. The fact that Negan seemed keen on making the women take him into their beds by twisting it into their own choice was useful. She was sure mind-games were his biggest weapon. Flexing and posturing as the top alpha, roughing up and/or killing those who get out of line. Keeping his people under his finger by keeping to his twisted codes.

The system here reminded her of certain animals. Obtaining his rivals' woman as some kind of sign of his continuing dominance. Keeping the other men who might challenge him afraid and in awe of him; betas underfoot by choice.

He could blame whatever sick shit he did on them not following his rules.

Michonne wasn't sure if Joy had seen her observe her swallowing that key. And she wasn't about to let her know that she knew.

She only wanted to keep a clear head, learn as much as she could about Negan and look for her chance.


	6. Chapter 6

Aiko leaned in close to Helen and whispered in her ear while watching Michonne. Michonne lay on the bench she had claimed as her own, with her arm draped over her eyes, pretending not to see or care.

The pixie haired woman tended to a pot cooking on the stove, something which smelled of curry. Michonne had to admit that was one smell she was glad to know wasn't lost to the apocalypse. One she never thought she'd have the pleasure of experiencing ever again.

The woman tapped her spoon on the edge of the pot and set it in a bowl. The ladies got up to get their servings of what she had cooked. Michonne observed for a moment, before the brown woman spoke.

"You too." she said looking at Michonne.

"-Come on." she repeated.

She dipped a large amount of the stuff into a bowl and handed it to her.

"Strange thing, when the world ended, not many people looted for spices, at least for the kind of spices _I_ like to use. So, I was able to cobble together some form of aloo gobi today. This is dandelion, wild onions, canned potatoes, and this. She held up a Costco-sized container of what was labelled "Indian Curry".

"I'm Farah."

Michonne nodded and took her bowl. She didn't start eating until she saw the others do the same.

Farah chuckled as she watched this.

"Oh, you'll fit right in here."

The sole entrance swung open and Joy walked in, looking no worse for the wear. She glared at her armed escorts for a moment before widening her eyes at them with an _I'm here, you can go now!_ glare.

As soon as the door swung shut, Joy scrambled to her side of the room and rifled through her things. She pulled out two plastic grocery bags from under her bed, checking them thoroughly for holes, before putting one inside the other.

Farah shook her head and smiled.

"She's persistent, that one."

Michonne watched her with open interest.

Joy squatted over her bags, stuck two fingers down her throat and retched. On the third attempt, she vomited.

The dirty blonde woman laughed at her mockingly.

"You know Negan knows that you're taking his shit! He's just biding his time waiting for you to do something stupid enough so he can make an example of you."

"Well, at least she's not just sitting on her ass talking shit." the brunette added, quietly.

"At least she's _trying_ to do something about her situation here."

"What are you saying, that I'm not?!" the dirty blonde said defensively.

"I'm _surviving!_ I've survived the biters, I mean to keep kicking and not end up like Linda, Debra, and Gail!" she added.

"-What happened to Debra?" Michonne interjected.

 _"What?"_

"I want to know what happened to Debra. That's a story I haven't heard yet... and Linda and Gail too for that matter, with details, at least."

Joy looked up at Michonne then, as did Helen and Aiko as they huddled together in their corner.

"Debra was legendary. She had us all fooled." Farah began.

"Came here of her own volition, pretending to be a groupie like Kasey over there." Helen said, indicating the dirty blonde woman.

"We all hated her kiss-up ass, until she showed her true colors. She never told us much about her life before, but Charlene over there, was the closest of us to her."

Charlene, the freckled brunette waved in a distracted deadpan way, as she continued to eat.

"She was a trick-turner before all this, like I was... Though, she was of the higher-class variety." Charlene added, as she chewed a mouthful of food.

When the others expressed shock, she added, "You never asked. We know our own. She was obsessive about keeping her stuff clean. She knew all the back-alley tricks. That's what gave her away. Toughest bitch we ever had up in here too. If _she_ couldn't sack that bloated sociopath, I doubt any of us could."

"She looked like a model, though not of the more exotic variety like you. She was _All-American_ with the feel of the girl-next-door. She gave Negan the time of his life on the regular, and became his favorite 'wife'. She had herself convinced that the guy was in love with her. -See, he doesn't trust _any_ of us. He often likes to tie us up when he's in the mood for favors and none of us has ever seen him sleep deeply." Farah added.

"Yeah, he's into that bondage shit." Charlene added, a lot of power-trippy men are. I bet he's too proud to be the sub he really is.

"She played the part well...but then so did he." Charlene continued.

"Finally, she got it into her head that she had him relaxed and loving her enough for him to drop his guard, I guess. Though, she told none of us what she'd planned. The guards came to get her one night and she didn't come back." Helen said.

Negan himself came with ten of his best men and escorted us to the amphitheater a day later. That's where he puts on shows to keep his people in line. Debra had broken his most serious rule, betrayal and so she got the worst punishment.

She was beaten with Lucille and beheaded, publicly.

...He took his time doing it. Negan had his men divide her up and make sure that everyone had piece of her corpse on display in a prominent place in every living space among his people. Every bit of her, from fingertip to a brain-matter splattered lock of hair.

"We got to live with her little toe hanging by the doorway for a month."

" _How?_ -How had she thought to do it?" Michonne asked.

"She made a shiv, wrapped it in a salvaged plastic grocery bag, and stashed it business-end down, in her vagina, I'd wager. When she got to his suite, she requested to clean-up herself in the restroom, likely turned on the water and hid it under the sink. She fucked him into what she thought was complete exhaustion and recovered her weapon... We can only go by what Negan says, but he claimed that she tried to stab him in the head with it, while she thought he was sleeping.

He caught her and elbowed her hard enough to knock most of her teeth out."

"-Disgusting prick that he is, he quipped that he should have had her give him head right then, as he'd always wanted to know what a 'fucking gumjob' would feel like. So that's how Debra ended up."

"Gail managed to dig and modify the plumbing in one of our bathrooms enough to make sure she could get through what would have been an escape route. She was a small woman, so when she'd had it just big enough for herself, she managed to squeeze her little spelunking ass through the pipe."

Farah chuffed. "Negan didn't have to lay a hand on her. The pipe opened up on an incline about fifteen feet over a pit they'd dug out, filled with shards of glass.

He had her dragged back in here and told us how she died. Judging from the condition of her body, it looked to be the truth."

Michonne frowned slightly, at this.

"Linda slit her wrists. She was the sister of the leader of a group who had managed to create a working community of treehouses. She went to Negan thinking he'd ease up on her brother and their people if she were a good little cocksucker." Joy said, her voice still slightly raspy from just -having thrown-up.

"-Not even once!" she said, laughing darkly.

"When they stopped being able to provide enough food for themselves and Negan's people? His men went and burnt down their forest. Roasted them _all._ "

"...But that's not gonna be me." she said triumphantly, holding up the key.

* * *

Heath opened the gate when he saw Enid and Carl come strolling up to the gate.

"This is a hell of time to go out exploring-"

He stopped short when he spotted Carl's weapon's bag and looked both damning and impressed at what he thought both had attempted to do.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid! -You're both lucky your folks didn't know. Now, get your little dumb-asses in here!" he said, and slid the gate shut.

"If he asks, I'll tell him I saw you two go out together for some private time." he said pointedly to Carl.

Carl exhaled. "Thanks."

"Whatever..." Heath said, "Jesus' debrief is going on in the chapel, right now. So, they'll be getting her back soon.

* * *

Jesus, stood at the pulpit and filled Rick and his inner circle in on all that he saw.

Because of Rick's concern about spies, he had Tara, Rosita, and Sasha guard the building. None of the Alexandrians were notified about the meeting.

"It's immense. Fortified and guarded by trained men armed to the teeth and surrounded by a moat and a field of walkers. Even I couldn't find a way to slip through.

The surrounding area is covered in boobytraps."

"This means that we can't hide. We'll have to confront this head on. We have to give them we they want."

"But what are we gonna live on, grass and air?" Abraham said.

"I said we'd give them what they want. I didn't say that we won't get it all back."


	7. Chapter 7

_AN: For those who come for the smut, I felt bad about only giving you a taste of the night after the visit to Hilltop because come on, we all know killing that dude made Rick horny as hell, so here's an extended version. Next chapter is when shit starts popping off, so enjoy this while you can. Brace yourselves for angst-city!_

* * *

 ** _Five Days Ago..._**

Crystal straddled the body of her dead lover for many hours, until the sun was nearly gone and her body swayed from the lack of water in her system in the summer heat. He was beginning to stiffen beneath her, rigor setting in. A giant of man, she'd always thought Ethan was invincible. That nothing could ever take him down, and really with Gregory's gross narcissism, offing him would've done their community a favor.

So, when those interlopers showed up, -when their crazed leader _Rick_ stabbed Ethan in the neck for the attempt on that windbag's life and stood daring her community to judge him, as if he'd just done the most logical thing in the world bleeding him out like a slaughtered animal, as if he'd just done _them_ a favor, _bathing_ in her lover's blood...In a community he'd just visited for the first time...

She vowed right then, that she would see every last one of them dead.

After they'd gone, she picked herself up. She washed herself and ate, washed Ethan's body and helped bury him near the fence. She palmed the entwined hearts he'd carved by hand for her two years ago, as her own heart ached, packed her hiking gear, a spear and a knife, and headed off to the Negan's homebase.

Once there she told him everything she knew about the visiting group. Their violence, their purpose for coming, all of the food they took from them, and who was in charge. She knew the black one was definitely close to Rick. She was on her _so quickly_ , the wind knocked out of her and knocked her hard on her ass after she'd barely laid a hand on him.

"Yes.-", she decided and relayed to Negan.

"They are definitely lovers."

Negan smiled his pepsodent grin and thanked her. Expressed gratitude for her loyalty. Told her she'd be richly rewarded for her troubles and when she waved that off, telling him she only wanted them all dead? He assured her that it would happen.

Then he raised his gun and before she could even blink, he fired a bullet through her skull.

"Nothing, in all of this shit existence is worse than a treacherous weak-ass bitch."

He looked to his man, Pablo, "Clean this shit up."

* * *

 ** _Later that Evening..._**

After, their plans had been solidified to take down Negan and his men in their sleep. -After they'd eaten and settled in for the evening, Michonne crept upstairs to his room, -now _their_ room to find Rick laying nude beneath his sheets staring wearily up at the ceiling.

"Come to bed, Michonne." he said, his voice low and gravelly.

He patted what he now thought of as her side of the bed and brightened in her presence despite his mental and physical exhaustion. She slowly approached, switching those hips in _that_ way that she had to know, he loved.

 _Tease,_ he thought and smiled lazily.

He watched attentively as she slowly disrobed, removing her katana and setting it near the night-stand, turning her back to him as she finished taking off her panties.

She heard him audibly groan, heard the shift of the sheets and knew that he couldn't help but touch himself as he watched.

 _"Don't move."_ he intoned, his voice a low rumble.

He got up and was upon her without warning, pressing and grinding himself temptingly against her nude bottom.

She gasped and he chuckled, drawing giggles from her as well.

He swept her locks from the nape of her neck and pressed his lips there, inhaling the essence of her as he did, -whatever magical concoction she'd managed to mix with the coconut oil, he found for her while scouting weeks ago and beneath that, calling to the most base primitive parts of his brain, purely _her._ He steered her around and gently bent her forward and low, so her face and elbows touched the bed. He then ground himself briefly against her gloriously exposed cheeks, before he dropped to his knees.

She heard his breath quicken before his mouth descended and opened wide against her slit from behind, his tongue doing sinful things to her. He wrapped one arm around her waist to pin her to him; her body was now at the mercy of his hot wet mouth and ruthless tongue.

She trilled like a cat at his delicious ministrations and he groaned low in his throat with masculine satisfaction as he worked her over to his liking.

The arm he'd wrapped around her, slid up her body to fondle her breasts. -Dragging down, to touch and squeeze her toned but pleasingly slightly rounded lower belly and he snaked his hand down the front of her body, through her curls, until he reached his destination. He pressed and swirled his index finger, adding layers of sensation, as he expertly fucked her with his tongue.

She sighed and shook, and melted into the sheets.

"Oh... Mmm.- _gaawd_ Rick..."

She squirmed. There was nothing but the steady hum between her legs and within her heart, as she felt her body quickly cresting, the sensation spreading out from her center, lighting up every nerve-ending.

"Come on Michonne," he huskily mumbled against her and dragged his tongue up and down her slit, before gripping her ass and spreading her wider, his fingers and mouth switching places. He pushed and pumped them slow, and jerked them repeatedly against her g-spot, while he slurped her clit between his lips and swirled his tongue around it like it was the source of his life.

She trilled and then got unnaturally quiet as wave upon wave hit her _hard_ and she came _and came_...

"Mmph!" he grunted and increased his efforts, a possessive fervor overtaking him.

His thumb pressed and rubbed the space between and against her other opening, as he sucked harder, his fingers curving against her g-spot, drawing it out as long as he could, only slowing finally, when her gasping breaths began to slow.

She was boneless and still gasping when he gently turned her and tugged her hips so his leaking length kissed her opening.

Michonne opened her eyes, and through the haze of her own steady afterglow watched Rick's red, swollen, _obscenely_ wet lower lip disappear between his teeth as he closed eyes in bliss and pushed himself inside her, his length sinking in with ease.

"Ahh..." he gasped, and his eyes flew open as the aftershocks of her orgasm created a shuddering grip around his length, as he moved.

"...yeah...mm, fuck me Rick."

Her voice was the highest, thinnest thread of a whisper as she planted her feet and lifted her hips to match his rhythm.

"unh-ah-oh..." he whined, and helplessly picked up the pace, his body tethered to hers.

He closed the distance between them so his face was just a breath away from her own.

He needed this closeness. -Needed to see her as he completely fell into her.

"ah dammit, michonne. you're a drug... _a fucking drug._ " he gritted out and kissed her sloppily as the pace reached a noisy crescendo; squeaking bed and wet bodies meeting, creating a lovemaking symphony.

His brow was furrowed and his sweat dripped on her but none of it mattered. His eyes were wet and his pupils blown wide as his body locked against her once, twice, and again and again...

" _FUCK! FUUUUCK!._...yes! AH-AH- _aaaah...yeeeeeeeessss..._ "

He gripped her hip, and his mind was taken by blissful possession.

The pressure on her clit sent her over again, and she gripped his wet curls and pulled him into a kiss as both came down.

Almost a minute later, he reluctantly rolled off, leaving her open, - _so open_ and still thrumming with a shadow of what they'd done.

He smiled and laughed in disbelieving satisfaction, completely sex drunk and kissed her exposed shoulder, meeting her equally blissed out eyes, before getting up to go to the closest. He recovered a clean, but rarely worn t-shirt, gave himself a perfunctory swipe and brought it back to bed to clean her up...naughtily massaging a bit as Michonne regarded him with a _"Really?"_ look and laughed.

He folded the dampened part of the shirt in, and spread it on the wet spot beneath her hips. He then leaned in to kiss her some more.

"I was so exhausted today, but it seems I'm never too tired for you, woman. You brought me back to life and then _killed me_."

They both giggled against each others' lips snuggled in close.

Shortly thereafter they fell into a deep slumber, his hand resuming it's usual position resting on his second favorite part of her, after her radiantly smiling face.


End file.
